


morning, beautiful

by scottmczall



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale Cooks, F/M, Morning After
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 09:51:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5412347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scottmczall/pseuds/scottmczall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Derek?” She calls carefully, gluing her back to the wall before turning the corner. Braeden levels the gun easily, like this is breathing, then points it down to the first floor. She sighs, closing her eyes briefly before slowly going down the stairs. “<i>Derek?</i>” His name rolls off of her tongue adamantly in her search. She wishes she had a damn shirt on. </p>
<p>“Kitchen.” Derek replies idly. <i>Finally.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	morning, beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this and posted on tumblr 5 thousand years ago but forgot to put it up here because im stupid so have at it.

Waking up in a jolt, hand searching for the gun, starts to feel like a morning routine when you take this line of work, but this isn’t exactly how Braeden meant to get up today. Her night had been actually good after an intense while, and she’d thought chaos would leave them be for at least a single _week_ before anything else went down. Instead, she finds Derek’s side of the bed cold and empty, and in this town you always— _always_ —hope for the worst.

“Derek?” She calls carefully, gluing her back to the wall before turning the corner. Braeden levels the gun easily, like this is breathing, then points it down to the first floor. She sighs, closing her eyes briefly before slowly going down the stairs. “ _Derek?_ ” His name rolls off of her tongue adamantly in her search. She wishes she had a damn shirt on.

“Kitchen.” Derek replies idly. _Finally._

Braeden grits her teeth, head tilting and arm falling limp beside her as sets the safety button. “What the hell are you doing?” She walks into the kitchen in quick steps, listening to the sound of frying and inhaling the unmistakable smell of bacon. “Are you…?”

Derek looks back at her, smiling amicably, and his eyebrows don’t even sass her on their own this time. Braeden’s mouth hangs open as she searches for the remaining words hanging above her sentence, but—she couldn’t have ever even _dreamed_ the image of Derek in a white tank top and dark boxers in front of the stove frying bacon and eggs, let alone be prepared to actually see it.

“Cooking? Yes.” He huffs amusedly.

She gives him an once over—or maybe three or four—before swallowing her shock and smiling back, “Didn’t think I’d wake up to this.”

“Yeah, well,” The wolf points towards the fridge, “No one ever eats the food here, so I thought this would be a good opportunity…” Derek clears his throat, lowering his gaze before going back to cooking. “You can put the gun down.” He reminds her, and the gun feels a little heavier in her hand.

Braeden frowns, smirking, “The gun _is_ down.”

He looks back at her again, and there they are—the eyebrows. “Down _er._ ”  

With that her eyes are rolling to the back of her head before she can stop herself, “I thought we worked through your gun problems?” She teases, but lays the gun on the table and heads for the counter, hopping on it before Derek can say anything.

“Still don’t like ‘em.” He shrugs, sliding the eggs and bacon from the pan and onto the white plate on the sink.

Braeden nooses her legs around him when he hands her the plate, pulling him closer and setting the food aside, “And you’ve decided to date a mercenary?” She smirks, feeling his hands roam up her thighs and waist, “You, Derek Hale, are setting yourself up for failure.”

Derek grins, taking a grip on her nape, “She more happened to me than anything,” He gives her a sharp-teethed smile before sealing their lips together, licking eagerly into her mouth. She pulls his hair slightly, enjoying the slide of their tongues together and the way he backs away just to carefully bite down on her bottom lip, before pulling apart completely. “Good morning, by the way.”

Braeden hums in agreement, “Mm, that it is.”


End file.
